


Romeo and Juliet Alternate Ending

by jlonetheaspiringfanficwriter22522



Category: Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst, F/M, Family Problems, and I absolutely blew it out of the water, this was an assignment for English
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 03:43:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13966623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jlonetheaspiringfanficwriter22522/pseuds/jlonetheaspiringfanficwriter22522
Summary: When Romeo enters the Capulet tomb to end his life, is his one true love truly gone forever? An English assignment gone right.





	Romeo and Juliet Alternate Ending

**Author's Note:**

> Actually what was written at the top of my paper:  
> ((This excerpt will be written in story format, with the dialogue of the story exact up until the point where I take up the creative licensing. Then it’s all modernized. But it’s good, so I hope that makes up for it. **The 500 words do not begin until this change in story.** I’m doing this because I know this is a long one, and because the bulk of this story contains things that have already happened.  
>  As you can tell, I went all-out when writing this. A break will show where the story changes, so you can skip there if you so choose.  
> Yes, I’m aware that something like this would not fly in college.))

Romeo found his way in the dark to the tomb, luckily remaining unseen despite the light of the torch which was carried by his assistant, Balthasar. A weight was heavy in the Montague’s heart, and he walked with a gallows air about him, a feeling of impending doom, and unbeknownst to the servant behind him, that was exactly what was to come.

“Give me that mattock and the wrenching iron,” Romeo called back to Balthasar, who handed him the pickaxe and crowbar. Next, Romeo held up a sealed piece of parchment to Balthasar. “Hold, take this letter. Early in the morning, see thou deliver it to my lord and father. Give me the light.” Balthasar took the paper and nodded, in return giving Romeo the torch.

Romeo put a hand on his man’s shoulder, taking a breath. “Upon thy life I charge thee. Whate’er thou hearst or seest, stand all aloof, and do not interrupt me in my course. Why I descend into this bed of death is partly to behold my lady’s face, but chiefly to take thence from her--” He faltered, a lump forming in his throat which he swallowed back. “-- To take thence from her dead finger a precious ring, a ring that I must use in dear employment.”

After further instruction, Balthasar was off, and leaving Romeo to do what he had to. He strode up to the opening of the tomb and looked up at it. He took one more steadying breath. “Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death, gorged with the dearest morsel of the earth. Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open, and in despite I’ll cram thee with more food!” Romeo then jammed the end of his pickaxe into the stone wall, chipping away at the door.

After a minute, Romeo heard a voice.

“Stop thy unhallowed toil, foul Montague!”

Romeo turned to see a young man across the yard, his hair dusted blond and made pale by the moonlight. It fluttered in the wind. The man wore the clothes of a nobleman. His face contorted with rage. “Can vengeance be pursued further than death? Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee. Obey and go with me, for thou must die.”

Who was this man to threaten him so? Romeo was shocked by the way the nobleman spoke, as if he knew him somehow. _Must be a friend of Capulet’s_ , he thought. At least he was right about one thing.

“I must indeed, and therefore I came hither. Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man. Fly hence and leave me,” Romeo said. “Think upon these gone. Let them affright thee.” The young noble wasn’t listening. “I beseech thee, youth, put not another sin upon my head by urging me to fury. O, be gone! By heaven, I love thee better than myself, for I come hither armed against myself.” The man cocked an eyebrow.

Romeo continued. “Stay not, be gone. Live, and hereafter say a madman’s mercy bid thee run away.”

The nobleman’s enraged expression returned. “I do defy thy commination and apprehend thee for a felon here.” He drew a sword.

Of course none of that worked. Nothing was working out in Romeo’s favor that day. Romeo’s eyes narrowed. “Wilt thou provoke me?” Romeo drew his dagger, standing upright and dropping the rest of his things. “Then _have at thee, boy_!”

The two ran at each other with brute force, their blades clashing multiple times. In a matter of minutes, Romeo’s dagger pierced the abdomen of his adversary, and he fell with a groan.

“ _Oh_ … I am slain!” As the ground around him soaked with blood, the nobleman looked up to Romeo. “If thou be merciful… open the tomb, and… urgh-- and lay me with Juliet.” His eyes rolled back in his head, and an exhale was audible as air left his lungs for the final time.

Romeo looked up with a shudder, not wanting to witness what would soon become of himself. “In faith, I will.” He looked down at the now-peaceful face of the man. His eyebrows furrowed. “… Let me peruse this face.”

Romeo knelt down and tipped up the man’s head. He had definitely seen those features before, the defined jawline and tousled blond hair. He knew exactly where it came from. He gasped. “Mercutio’s kinsman, noble County Paris.” It had only been two days since his dear friend had been slain, but it felt like much longer than that. Romeo paused again in thought.

“What said my man, when my betossed soul did not attend him as we rode? I think he told me Paris should have married Juliet. Said he not so? Or did I dream it so? Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet to think it was so?” He studied the features of Paris before sighing. “O, give me thy hand, one writ with me in sour misfortune’s book. I’ll bury thee in a triumphant grave.”

Romeo picked Paris up under the arms and pulled his limp body to the door of the tomb. With just a little more cracking at it, he could slide the door open. Carefully, so as not to break his bones and keep him as pristine as he could, Romeo dragged Paris down the stairs of the vault. It felt like forever before he could finally reach the bottom. Dragging the County into a corner, he stood upright and looked over at a white bed across the room.

Speaking to himself but referencing Paris, he whispered, “A grave? Oh, no. A lantern, slaughtered youth, for here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes this vault a feasting presence full of light. Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interred.”

Slowly, Romeo strode over to the bed where Juliet lay. His feet felt feather-light, carried by a calming feeling of nothing in particular. His stomach churned, but also felt numb.

Her family had made the bed well, it looked very comfortable now.

“... How oft when men are at the point of death have they been merry, which their keepers call a lightning before death!” Romeo was close enough now that he could look upon the face of his wife. Tears filled his eyes. “Oh, how may I call this a lightning?” The tears now rolled down Romeo’s face endlessly. “O my love, my wife! Death, that has sucked the honey of thy breath, hath had no power yet upon thy beauty. Thou art no conquered. Beauty’s ensign yet is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks, and death’s pale flag is not advanced there.”

Romeo sobbed as he looked behind him to the rows of the dead behind him. “Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet? O, what more favor can I do to thee, than with that hand that cut thy youth in twain to sunder his that was thine enemy? Forgive me, cousin.” Turning back to Juliet, he continued, sobbing and retching all the way.

“Ah, dear Juliet, why art thou yet so fair? Shall I believe that unsubstantial death is amorous, and that the lean abhorred monster keeps thee here in dark to be his paramour? For fear of that, I still will stay with thee, and never from this palace of dim night depart again.” Romeo continued to speak words of his impending death, and of the beauty of his beloved, until finally, he kissed her unmoving lips. Shaking, tears rolling down his face, he spoke again, now holding up the apothecary’s poison.

“Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavory guide. Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on the dashing rocks thy seasick, weary bark. Here’s to my love!”

At that very moment, in the middle of Romeo’s monologue, Juliet stirred. Her eyes opened, and there he was, her Romeo. He had come to save her. Wait, what was he holding?

“-- now at once run on the dashing rocks thy seasick, weary bark.”

What was he talking about? Was-- _was he about to_ \--

“Here’s to my love!”

Juliet snapped awake, and grabbed the arm of Romeo just as he was about to tip the vial. He jumped, clearly startled. “Romeo!” she shouted.

Romeo couldn’t seem to form any coherent thoughts. He only stood there motionless, holding his breath and staring at the terrified expression on his lover’s face, his lover who only moments ago was dead. He attempted to speak, but no words came out.

“What on earth do you think you’re _doing_?” Juliet cried, moving to sit up in her bed.

Incoherent, displaced syllables flooded out of Romeo’s mouth. He held up a hand, and it shook.

His mind swam. He was dreaming. He had to be. There was absolutely no way this was possible, that the Lord would be so merciful as to let his only true love live. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t. No. Not a chance. No, no, no…

“… no, no, _no, no, no_ …” Slowly, the single syllable was uttered, at first soft, and then with a growing intensity of pain and mourning that had set itself deep inside his soul, and now had to be released. More tears ran down his face.

Juliet’s expression of horror now turned into one of deep concern. “Romeo? Are you alright?”

“-- no, no, no, no, _no_ !” Romeo lunged forward, gripping the fabric of Juliet’s chemise and sobbing _hard_ , harder than he ever had before. Juliet placed a hand on the back of his head as silent tears fell down her face too. She had never seen her beloved so distraught, and it hurt her, too.

There was a thudding coming from the top of the stairs, where moonlight flooded in there was a shadow. The shadow grew smaller as a man hurled down the stairs wearing a robe. There was a slight shine off of his balding head. He looked at the two with a look of distraught. “Juliet! Thank goodness you’re alright! I heard a crying from inside this tomb.”

Romeo removed his head from Juliet’s bosom and looked back at the friar. “What witchcraft is this… that’s raised my lady from the dead? It’s-- it’s simply impossible. Impossible…”

"Romeo, my deepest apologies. I had sent a messenger to Mantua in hopes that he would get to you, but I was sorely mistaken. Thank the Lord Juliet woke up in time."

"Lead, boy. Which way?" There was more footsteps as appeared a watchman, with a small pageboy at his heels. 

"This is the place. There, where the torch doth burn."

"What on earth is going on down here? Juliet, alive and well, clasped in her arms a Montague, and a friar as well? This must be reported to the Prince at once!" The chief watchman shouted to the others, "Go, tell the Prince. Run to the Capulets. Wake up the Montagues. Have some others search. And as for all of you--" he turned to the Friar, Romeo, and Juliet. "All of you will stay here until the Prince comes."

"Friar, what's going on?" Romeo wondered.

"My friend, your wife has been in a coma for the last 42 hours. I mixed her a potion that had such effect. I had her drink it and fall into a sleep akin to death, because the only other option would have been her marrying Count Paris. She slept, and her family thought her dead (and by the looks of things, so did you). She was placed in her family's tomb, and i had sent a letter to Mantua for you so that you could come and rescue her; from there, you would have escaped to Mantua and lived out your lives there."

"I--" Romeo choked out. "-- I had no idea."

"I'm sorry, Romeo," Juliet said. "Truly, I am. This wasn't supposed to happen, you weren't supposed to..." Juliet took her lord by the chin and held his face up; his eyes were red and puffy from many minutes' worth of crying. She began to cry again, too, at the sight.

"They're down here, sir," a voice said. A yawn was the reply.

"What misadventure is so early up that calls our person from our morning rest?" Another nobleman came down the stairs, with the same blond hair and striking features as his kinsmen, both deceased. This man's hair was quite disheveled, presumably having just come out of bed. Everyone recognized this man to be Prince Escalus.

Two more people walked down the stairs, and Juliet's stomach dropped to see who they were.

"What should it be that it is so shrieked abroad?" Capulet asked, his voice groggy.

"Oh, the people in the street cry 'Romeo,' some 'Juliet,' and some 'Paris,' and all run with open outcry toward our monument," answered Lady Capulet.

"What fear is this which startles in our ears?" the Prince finally asked.

The chief watchman duly replied. "Sovereign, here lies the County Paris slain, and Romeo alive here, in the arms of Juliet, once dead but now alive and breathing."

The Capulets were understandably in a state of shock. It seemed that Capulet was trying to say something, but faltered.

As another watchman dragged Balthasar down the stairs as the Chief pushed Friar Lawrence forward. "Here is a friar, and Romeo’s man, with instruments upon them fit to open these dead men’s tombs."

"Juliet... can it possibly be true..." Capulet spoke quietly.

As Juliet rose out of her bed, she nodded. "Yes, Papa, it's me. I must apologize many times to you, to Mama, for the trouble we must have caused you."

"The trouble  _we_ caused you?" Capulet raised an eyebrow.

Slowly, Juliet nodded again in affirmation. "Yes, Papa... myself and Romeo here." She gestured to Romeo, who now straightened up.

"... Romeo? What kind of trickery is this?"

The Prince cleared his throat. "Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while, till we can clear these ambiguities and know their spring, their head, their true descent, and then will I be general of your woes and lead you even to death. Meantime forbear, and let mischance be slave to patience.— Bring forth the parties of suspicion."

Friar Lawrence advanced. "I am the greatest, able to do least, yet most suspected, as I was here when Juliet awoke and Romeo went to her. And here I stand, both to impeach and purge, myself condemned and myself excused."

"Then say at once what thou dost know in this."

The friar sighed. "I will be brief, for my short date of breath is not so long as is a tedious tale. Romeo, here now, is husband to that Juliet, and she, also here, that Romeo’s faithful wife. I married them, and their stol'n marriage day was Tybalt’s doomsday, whose untimely death banished the new-made bridegroom from the city— for whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pined." He turned to Capulet and his lady. "You, to remove that siege of grief from her, betrothed and would have married her perforce to County Paris. Then comes she to me, and with wild looks bid me devise some mean to rid her from this second marriage, or in my cell there would she kill herself. Then gave I her, so tutored by my art, a sleeping potion, which so took effect as I intended, for it wrought on her the form of death.

"Meantime I writ to Romeo, that he should hither come as this dire night, to help to take her from her borrowed grave, being the time the potion’s force should cease. But he which bore my letter, Friar John, was stayed by accident, and yesternight returned my letter back. Then all alone at the prefixed hour of her waking came I to take her from her kindred’s vault, meaning to keep her closely at my cell till I conveniently could send to Romeo, but when I came, some minute after the time of her awakening, here untimely lay the noble Paris, and Romeo and Juliet embracing."

"I heard of Juliet's death, and... and I was prepared to..." Romeo leaned over to grab the vial of poison from where it lay on Juliet's "deathbed," and showed it to the others, before dropping it and letting it shatter. "... I'm sorry."

After that story, Capulet appeared to be fuming.

"Papa?" Juliet acknowledged him.

“Juliet, what are you thinking?!” Capulet asked. “Is this how you want to spend your life? Married to some obnoxious snob with money and power?”

Juliet stood her ground. “I'm sorry, but it sounds to me like the man you speak of is _yourself_ ! I’m sorry, Papa, but I would rather be living out in the _streets_ than to live without my beloved!”

“If that’s the way things are." He turned away from her, in the direction of where Paris lay. "... You were much better off with Paris.”

This was ridiculous, Juliet thought. “Look at yourself, Papa! You’ve been talking about no one _but_ Paris since he came into our lives. It seems to me like you wanted him as your son more than as a husband for your own daughter!” She stepped in his direction.

Capulet turned back, a look of fury on his face. “That is no way to speak to your father!”

“ _You’re no longer my father_!” Juliet cried, tears streaming down her face. She vibrated with anger.

“Juliet, calm down,” Romeo pled, putting a hand on her shoulder. This was completely out of place for her. What pain did she have to endure for this outburst to happen?

The hand was quickly swatted away with a stark, “ _NO_ ! This is the way you’ve been treating me my _entire life_! Just waiting for the day when I’m married off so that you’ll finally have an heir for yourself! You’ve always taught me that the family Montague was cruel and vile and wanted nothing to do with us, but you’re wrong! I love Romeo, Papa! I love him, and there’s nothing you can do to change that! Now we're going to leave and that's that! Come along, Romeo!" She dragged Romeo out of the tomb by the wrist.

"But Juliet, we can't just leave!"

"Oh, yes we can! We're starting a new life, Romeo! Are you with me?" The two were halfway down the churchyard by now. They stopped, and Juliet looked back to Romeo with hope and pleading in her eyes. "Please. You know we aren't wanted here by any means."

Romeo looked into his lover's eyes again. He wanted to go with her; of course he did. She was the love of his life.

"Well, Romeo?"

God, she was so beautiful. And feisty, too. How couldn't he refuse?

**Author's Note:**

> I really rushed it at the end. I realized that I was going on 2000 words, and I was only supposed to write 500... so uh yeah that happened. And now it's given me an excuse to use this account. Fun.  
> ~J.Lone


End file.
